What's The Point Of Being Famous?
by KissMeUnderTheStars
Summary: Krum x Granger - Viktor Krum has his eye on someone special in the Hogwarts Library.


**Author's Note;;** A little OOCness on all parts here, I'll admit it. Plus, writing Krum's dialogue was hard and it sounds lame and not like him at all. Sigh. Anyways, had this story floating around for a while and wanted to finish it up. Enjoy.

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Some days Viktor Krum hated being famous. He could hear the group of girls that constantly followed him in the shelves two rows away, giggling and whispering to each other. He sighed, shifting the stacks of books in front of him to hide his face more despite knowing it did nothing to deter the group. Instead, he listened, scowling, as the group moved closer. Viktor looked back at the book in front of him, hardly taking in the words that instructed one how to make a Draught of Living Death, his mind in turmoil. Karkaroff had informed him days earlier that he needed a date for the Yule Ball and had implied that she should have blood as pure as Karkaroff himself. Viktor had resisted the urge to laugh at that but had spent the last few days avoiding his headmaster and lurking in the library as much as possible.

Unfortunately, there were very few girls that Viktor would approach in the library and only one that he really wanted to. Karkaroff would have murdered him if he knew but Viktor didn't care. Much. He looked up at the thought of her and his scowl lessened at the glimpse of her through his stacks of books. She had her own equally large pile of books before her, parchment unrolled and quill moving quickly across the page. Her hair was a little frazzled but he didn't mind, it was…attractive in a way. No girl at home in Bulgaria quite looked like Hermione Granger and not a single one he could think of thought like her either. Viktor had been allowed to observe a few classes and Hermione was one of the most brilliant witches he had ever seen.

She paused, scratching her head and flipping a few pages before finding what she wanted and starting to write again. Viktor sighed, returning to his own book and idly turning the pages before switching to a novel discussing the rights of werewolves in modern magical times. He wondered what Hermione would say if he asked her to the ball. His stomach gave that nervous lurch that typically occurred when he was taking off for a Quidditch game. Viktor ran a hand through his hair, pushing the books away and standing up. He noticed that Hermione glanced at him before returning to her work. He shook his head slightly, more at himself than anything else, collecting the books and moving to slip them back onto their shelves. The group of fan girls followed him, still whispering and giggling to them selves. He wished they would go away and leave him alone. Surely they had lessons or homework…something.

Viktor finished putting the books back and wandered back to the table where he had been sitting to collect his bag. He began to leave, walking past Hermione but stopped at her table, sitting down uninvited across from her. She stopped writing even though it looked as if she was in the middle of a word and looked up at him, quill hovering over the parchment.

"Yes?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, looking at him. Viktor took a breath and scowled slightly, catching the harsh whispers of the girls behind her.

"Vill you come take a valk vit' me?" He mentally cursed his terrible English, his lack of pronunciation skills, everything. He suddenly half-wished that he had taken up his mother's offer of English lessons last year. Hermione looked at him, a puzzled look upon her face and Viktor wasn't sure if that was due to his accent or his request.

"If you can wait for me to finish this essay, sure," She smiled and, without waiting for a response, returned to writing. Viktor couldn't help but smile to himself, crossing his ankles and settling down to wait. He decided that he liked watching her work. She was so incredibly engrossed in her work, he wondered if she remembered that he was there. He liked seeing her all caught up in an essay, nose nearly skimming the parchment as she wrote furiously, referencing a book every once in a while. It seemed as if she nearly wrote from memory, as if each book's information was already in her head and she was just double checking the facts before she worked them in. Viktor watched and waited quietly as she spent another fifteen or twenty minutes.

"Sorry, I hadn't meant to spend so long on," Hermione said, blushing a little as she dried and rolled up her parchment, tucking it away carefully in her bag.

"It is alright," Viktor said, standing with her and helping her put the books back even though she had protested his help. Eventually, they left the library, slowly walking down the corridors of the castle.

"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

Viktor looked at Hermione and smiled a bit, "I vish for some privacy, first, I tink." She nodded, apparently just noticing the small group of girls that still followed Krum.

"Come on, I know where we can go," she grinned, taking his hand and running up the corridor. He laughed and ran after. They slid through one room, then another, skipping hallways and eventually losing the gaggle of girls before Hermione paused in a hallway. "Two seconds." Viktor nodded, watching her pace back and forth for a moment before slowly opening a door on the wall that he hadn't noticed. "We should be safe in here." She smiled, slipping inside and letting him follow. He was rather impressed with whatever bit of magic permitted this room to exist. It was round, cozy, like a Muggle bookstore he had visited once. There was a couch, two chairs and a small round table that held a pot of tea and two cups. Hermione sat in one of the chairs, smiling at Viktor who sat opposite of her.

"I thought you might like the change of privacy," Hermione said. He could just see a blush rising in her cheeks as she tried to pour the tea, her hands shaking just enough to rattle the pot.

"It is very different," he said, nodding a bit, accepting the cup of tea from her, smiling. The blush rose further and she looked at her lap.

"I hope you don't think I'm being forward, either," she said quietly, glancing at him over her cup as she raised it to her lips.

He shook his head, "Not at all."

"You wanted to talk to me though?"

"I vas vondering if you vould like to go to the Yule Ball vith me?" There, he said it. He grinned at her and she stared at him.

"With…you? You want me to go with you?" Hermione managed to put her tea cup back on the table, visibly blushing wildly now and struggling to hide a smile.

"Vhy, yes. I think you are a vonderful person, Her-my-oh-nee," Merlin's beard, her name was gorgeous and here he was butchering it with his accent. He internally sighed.

"Krum…I don't know," she sighed out loud, making him smile a bit more. She made such lovely noises.

"Viktor is fine," he said, leaning forward a bit.

Hermione's blush deepened, "Well, alright then, Viktor. I would love to. Ron…" She paused and shook her head.

"That ginger man you hang out vith?"

"Mmm, yes. He's…well, he's awfully jealous of you, I suppose and I'm afraid that me going with you might cause a spat," she said, giving a half-hearted shrug.

'I think if he is your friend, he vill understand that it is just a dance partner and not a boyfriend," Viktor murmured, "Don't you?"

"That makes sense, but Ron doesn't always follow common sense-"

"Do you think Potter vill have an issue too?"

Hermione looked at him and laughed, "Oh, no, no, no. From what I know, both of them are still looking for a date because they put it off too long and its left Harry in a bind since he really needs one since you champions open the Ball."

"And neither has asked you?" Viktor raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head.

"How awful," he said, licking his lips and studying her carefully. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss her, to pull her tight to him and just murmur stupid things in her ear until she melted. He glanced at the couch, a thought forming in his head. She had created the room. She could have just done it with only two chairs but there was a couch also. "Come." Feeling as nervous as he did the day before the World Cup, he stood and offered her his hand. A thrill went through him as she took it and stood also, letting him lead her to the couch. They sat, slightly turned to one another, Viktor just looking at Hermione.

"What?" she finally asked, smiling a bit.

"You. You're beautiful," he whispered, reaching up to tuck a strand of curly hair behind her ear. She blushed and shook her head. It amazed him, really. He had watched her for so long and she never blushed or grinned in embarrassment or shyness. Hermione was confident and tough and knew what she wasn't. She wasn't normally this shy girl, melting onto the couch. He smiled, deciding that he liked it.

"I am not," she murmured, seeming to dislike the lapse into silence.

"Yes, you are," he murmured, leaning towards her. He could see the pulse beating in her throat rapidly, smiling as she looked at him carefully. He moved close, able to smell her shampoo now, wondering if it was as soft as it looked. He cupped her face in his palm gently and her eyes fell closed. His thumb traced her lips and she unconsciously kissed it, looking at him between lashes, struggling to not blush again. "Gorgeous, in fact." Viktor shifted slightly, leaned close until he could smell her skin and kissed her gently. There was a small noise of perhaps protest that quickly died in her throat as he kissed her soft and tender, as if she was the only girl he had ever kissed and would ever kiss.

"Viktor," she murmured, pulling away and leaning against the back corner of the couch.

"Hmm?" his hand stroked her neck, fingers just curling around to trace the lines of her throat.

"I'll go with you," Hermione said, nodding and smiling.

"I thought you vould," he murmured, kissing her gently again. She leaned into the kiss this time and he took that as encouragement, deepening it slightly, nipping at her bottom lip gently. She gasped and he took the opportunity to flick his tongue across hers, making her shiver and lean into him for more. He moved, tugging her legs up onto the couch so she was stretched out beneath him. He kissed the fluttering pulse point, making her purr quietly and he smirked into her skin, kissing her neck and throat slowly. Her hand curled around his shoulders, idly stroking the line between his neck and shoulder. Curious, he imitated the movement on her, pushing her shirt collar out of the way, kissing and licking her in the same manner she was touching him. He heard her stifle a moan as his lips brushed some sensitive spot, shivering, nails digging into him just a bit. He smirked against her skin again, biting the spot ever so gently.

"Viktor," she breathed, arching slightly, pressing against him in the most delicious manner. He dug his teeth into her more, sliding one hand up her thigh at the same time, the fabric of her skirt giving way. Hermione seemed unable to decide if she wanted to give in to the feel of his mouth or fight away his hand, nearly clawing at his shoulder as she squirmed. He stopped his hand, moving it back to the couch.

"Sorry," he murmured, kissing her soft.

"It's…" she took a breath, kissing him back, tasting him slow, seeming to procrastinate on replying, "It's alright. Just not…"

He kissed her again, "Do not vorry about it." She nodded, letting him shift, scooping her into his lap, kissing her collarbone and the hollow of her throat, smiling as he noticed a wonderful blush coloring her cheeks. He held her loosely by her waist, although she seemed rather comfortable to just lean against him, playing with his hair slightly.

"I have to get going," she sighed finally.

"Oh, vell, alright then," he said, pulling away.

Hermione laughed softly, "I'll see you later, alright? And shall we just not tell anyone who we're going with? Make it a surprise?" She slid off of his lap, smoothing her clothes as best she could.

"If that is what you vould like," he said, taking her wrist and pulling her down for one last kiss.

She nodded, pulling away slow, "I would. Very much." He nodded seriously, letting her tug her wrist from his grasp, watching as she gathered her things and slipped out of the room. Viktor scratched his chin and followed suit. What was the point of being famous when the good girls didn't care?


End file.
